The Troublesome Bed
by the infamou5 c0pyc4t
Summary: Finding bedroom activities too troublesome, Shikamaru decides to get someone else to accept his husband duties. MA (Shikamaru Cuckold story)
1. Chapter 1

**A Troublesome Bed**

It was honest fact that Temari was shocked she ever had Shikadai in the first place. Shikamaru was a good choice of a husband, compliant and willing to do anything she asked – so long as it kept her from getting mad – but while he was good out of the home, the bedroom faced scores of problems. His love of sleep oftentimes outweighed the passionate and frisky side of the Kazekage's older sister. Each venture to each other's body wound up with her on top, trying to provoke her husband to take charge. But taking charge was just something that Shikamaru did not like to do. On the field, he'd shoulder the responsibility…

"But why should I do it when you know what you like?" grumbled Shikamaru after sex one night, hands pillowing his head and a customary cigarette in his lips. Temari was sitting up, somewhat disheveled, but not nearly as much as she'd like to be.

She folded her arms under her breasts, which were covered only by the light blue – almost white – nightdress she normally wore to bed. His lack of enthusiasm infuriated her more than anything else in their marriage. While she may not have been curvy like the Fifth Hokage, and not make a show of her looks like his former teammate, she felt she could count herself as one of the more attractive kunoichi in Shikamaru's life! Her scowl creased her face further, and she wanted nothing more than to seize her gigantic fan and clunk him on his head when he rolled over, already snoring after setting his cigarette in the ashtray at his bedside.

She'd be better off with a vibrator…

~~~**Away from the troubles of marriage**~~~

Kiba was enjoying his life. Not being tied down meant he could come and go as he pleased, and after Kakashi became the Sixth Hokage, the value of the Inuzuka was more appreciated. Leave it to a fellow canine trainer to see the truth of pairing dogs with ninja! Akamaru may have gone past his prime, content to lay about the house while Kiba ventured onward, but Kiba wasn't alone.

He would pick up the occasional companion, though his keen eyes were set on the girl who surrounded herself with cats. And Tamaki must've known his obvious intentions, as subtlety was not Kiba's strength. Still, she chided him along, playing hard-to-get with nonchalant reactions whenever he proposed an official relationship. Cats were fickle, and it seemed their masters were the same way.

Well, after so long, a rowdy heart like Kiba's could not sit still. If she would not accept him – she'd not declined him, either – then he'd add some notches to her bedpost for her to regret later on!

Now Kiba was at the bar, drinking down heavy swigs of alcohol and cheering with the rest of his Konoha kin. Of the Rookie 9, he could proudly say that he was the luckiest of them all! A slew of tracking missions – courtesy of the previous Hokage's dog-service decree – kept his wallet packed, his nose filled with exotic scent, and his life interesting. _Heh!_ Let Naruto sit in a chair all day. He could have the title!

"I win!" roared Kiba, slamming down his emptied mug while the ninja visiting from Iwagakure toppled over, overcome by the amount of alcohol in his system. His compatriots caught him under his arms and dragged him out, whispering words of consolidation. The loser meant nothing to Kiba as he turned around with arms wide open for a challenge. There was the slightest hint of red in his cheeks, but he wasn't drunk just yet. "Who's next?! Who can I beat now?!"

The faces around him were interested, but no one volunteered. Not until a hand shot up towards the back, and a woman said, "Me! Since no one is man enough to put you in your place!"

Kiba arched an eyebrow and watched with some interest as a woman shoved her way through the crowd, her eyes golden and her slick hair fiery. And that exotic skin tone… The woman from the Kumo, Karui with the regrettable attachment to the Akimichi clan. Kiba leered at her as she stepped up to his table in challenge. She was a girl who'd gotten away, in his opinion, but maybe she needed a plush guy like Choji to boss around; she'd only find a stubborn wall if she tried that with Kiba. His fang poked out with his grin.

"Karui," he mused, "shouldn't you be at home making bentos for your kid… and husband?"

Karui snorted at his lame attempt at an insult and slammed her palm down on the table. "I'm challenging you, dog! And we'll see who goes home afterward!"

Kiba wasn't about to shirk from a challenge, least of all from her. He gestured for a round of beer. "I'm fine with that. But if I win, I say I get to take you out." He snickered whilst the crowd murmured in shock as his audacity.

Karui's sharp eyes narrowed accusingly. "I'm married."

_Ugh… don't remind me…_ Kiba did not say that out loud, and it wasn't easy to keep his eyes from rolling at her proclamation. "Just a night out, the two of us." He cockily eased down into his chair, and leaned across with one elbow, flashing that cheeky grin that made men hate him and girls scoff at his attempts. "Or do all dates with you end up in the bedroom?"

The murmurs only grew louder. Kiba was truly the boldest among them to proposition a man's wife in public. Dare he continue to bait her? Dare she answer his question truthfully?

"If I win," Karui conditioned, accepting Kiba's terms by doing so, and her own smirk tilted her mouth, "you'll be the one making my family's lunches… for the next three months."

It might have seemed that Kiba had called the stronger bet, but anyone who knew the Akimichi – as Kiba did very well – they didn't have box lunches with a scoop of rice, some veggies and fish. They had a full-course serving! Kiba remembered a time when Choji showed up to the academy with a traditional sack strapped to his back and was floored when he saw it was filled with _several_ bentos, all for Choji himself.

But to retract his bet and make a better trade would make it seem like he wasn't up for the challenge. Kiba couldn't look weak to those who admired him; typical bar drunks were still fans, he told himself.

He grabbed his mug and waited for Karui to grab hers. She did so without hesitation. "I'll let you pick where we go," he jibed, and the contest began!

~~~**In the Nara bedroom**~~~

Temari chewed her bottom lip, holding back her reactions to the dance of her fingers. Shikamaru had gotten up and gone for a walk, a usual tactic of a tired husband who just could stand hearing his wife nag. Temari was strong enough that she didn't use the word 'divorce' as a weapon to draw him back, so she let him go. She'd fume in her own way, and while that could mean going off in the forest to train in the daytime, at night, in her bed, sexually frustrated, she saw no better way to relax than to finish the job Shikamaru couldn't.

Not that he was always a slouch and never brought her to climax. When they were younger, just starting out, he'd actually analyze what she liked and employed it. And she was a girl who liked it rough. Shikamaru beat his hips against hers as hard as he could, yet, clutching the back of his neck and digging in with her nails, she told him to go harder and faster. He complied as best as he could, but when it became a usual thing, Shikamaru finally threw his hands up and griped "I can't go any faster than that!" Did she expect his pelvis to blur as he rushed into her?

She, in a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, admitted that maybe she asked too much of him. The rest of that session was done with her on top, gentle sways and lulls that Shikamaru swore were the most relaxing moments he'd ever shared with her. He drifted off to a sound sleep afterward, and she was happy to have satisfied him. It was that particular coupling that saw to the birth of their son.

After that, they hit that rut. The baby was an interference, but as he grew older and more independent, Temari found there was more time to be intimate with her husband! But he was just happy for more time to take naps. He was older, true, and being a head advisor to the Hokage – particularly one as dimwitted as Naruto – wasn't exactly stress free, but he could've made more time for her. She didn't need the attention 24/7 like Sakura – who seemed just lost and withering now, now that she had Sasuke's name, but never his attention – but a night a week! Was that too much?!

Temari cringed and closed her eyes, her fingers finding the mark and strumming against it. A vibrator or some kind of sex toy would have been a useful tool, but right now, she settled on her skillful hands and wasn't regretting it. The nice blonde fur that surrounded her sex felt smooth and wet against her slick palm as she alternated stimulation between her clit and the tunnel below. One hand down there, and the other on her breasts. Busty blonde, she was not, but she saw that to her advantage; weight and time would make them sag, but she was of a tight package, curves where there should be, but not weight. Childbearing had upsized her bust, but diligent training and diet kept more weight from accumulating.

Men wanted her, she thought while chasing her own pleasure. She could see their desire when she walked past! Again she cringed, though her noise was stifled; this was not a response to pleasure. Perhaps it was an exaggeration to say they all watched her. The soft-petal men of Konoha were intimidated by her cactus attitude.

That's enough! No more evaluating herself and other's opinion of her! In Suna, she was a rose in the desert; in Konoha, they wanted something softer, weaker. She would not be that woman for their approval. Emboldened by her own confidence and self-value, Temari's hands played more eagerly with her body. Her thighs split wide in an indecent showing to the other side of the room, her knees bent up and out, the only visual obstruction of her pussy being her hand as she thumbed her clit and dug into her snatch with her fingers. Her nightgown had almost been bunched entirely at her midsection if not for the shoulder straps. She'd yanked the collar down at one side to free a plump breast, which she molested in a grip Shikamaru was perhaps too careful to do.

Don't think of him! Don't think of anything but this!

Temari's hips pushed in rhythm to her pumping fingers. The wet, sticky sounds of her plugging herself matched the rise of her voice, and when she came, the unusual slip of a squeal was drawn from her lips. She rarely came like this, vocally and excitedly and frenziedly. Her tight butt lifted off the sheets and was caught in that moment. All muscles squeezed, her hand stilled, and from her came the gush of climactic bliss.

It was hard not to cry out; the sounds coming from her opening and closing mouth made it seem like she'd stubbed her toe and was dealing with the pain. "_Ha~! Tsss…! Ah~! Tss…!_" She went on like that until the proud arch of her release faltered to a drizzle and the embarrassment of soiling hers and Shikamaru's bed sheet (without him) set in after the orgasm receded.

She let herself slacken, head full of fuzz and body pulsating. Without the fog of repressed sex, her dignity returned, and she felt no pride when the slick slide of her fingers withdrawing came to her ears. She almost didn't want to look at the mess she'd made of her digits, yet she did and saw the glistening shame stringing between her fingers.

No doubt Shikamaru would guess what she was up to while he was away – and it never bothered him – but she should change the sheets; she never favored the wet spot, but her husband refused to lie on it, preferring the floor to bed when she forced him to take the side that had seen sex. His attitude was worse when he didn't get a good night's sleep.

Groaning and getting off the comfort of their bed, Temari slipped the nightie back over her breasts, straightened it out, and prepared to change the sheets. It was bad enough to have to waste time doing this, but it was even worse when Shikadai, finally setting down his game, came knocking to ask if she was alright.

"Sounded like you hurt your toe again, Kaasan," he said from the other side of the door.

~~~**Three drinking contests later**~~~

"How about…" Kiba stumbled, his feet struggling underneath him to keep his elusive balance. "I can make three lunches." He held up a finger. "And I'll take you out when Choji can't?"

Karui steadied him, for if he lost his balance and fell, she'd fall without his support. The two drinking combatants staggered out of the bar, leaning against one another, arms over each other's shoulders, for four legs were more stable than two. Both of them drank too ambitiously and competitively; no clear winner could be decided in the end, for the moment Kiba's face smacked flat on the surface of the table, Karui was already falling back in her chair. Neither was capable of catching a beer mug's handle after that; it was in their best interests that they leave.

"I won't," Karui said, shaking her head. "No! No." She slurred and sucked like she was catching spit before it could turn into drool. "I… I won."

"No, it's not," Kiba blabbered. "I win too." He held up two fingers, but Karui didn't argue. She groaned and regretted it already; a hangover no doubt was pending, and Chocho was not going to be merciful.

They walked and staggered, and at one point paused; Kiba had to puke amongst a collection of trash bags, which Karui berated, but she had to brace against a wall until he was capable of helping her again. They were almost at her home by the time they were able to start talking in a more coherent conversation. And of course, Kiba steered immediately to her involvement with Choji, asking if her keenness to the drink was to make it easier to crawl into bed with him; her response was an elbow to his gut. Kiba confessed – though maybe halfheartedly – that he was joking.

"We should spend some more time together. We'll need to break the tie, so we should go out more," he teased her at her doorstep. "As friends." They'd yet to separate.

Karui shook her head, touching her forehead as the buzz of alcohol continued its assault. Drinking was the last thing on her mind, but would be the first come the headache in the morning. "I don't have time to go out like this," she grumbled. "Some of us have families… and integrity!" She reached up and yanked hard at the first finger that crept sneakily on her breast.

"_YEOW!_" Kiba recoiled and squeezed his nearly-snapped finger. Karui, in stuck-up fashion, walked forward, all of her focus put into a beeline stride. She bid him goodnight, and slammed the door. From within the house, while still reeling from his finger injury, he heard Chocho shout and complain about slamming doors.

Kiba turned away, and though his finger throbbed, he grinned up at the moon, feeling that the night, even if it was ending alone, was well-spent.

He did not notice the pair of eyes watching him from the rooftops several homes away. The dark eyes gleamed thoughtfully when the end of his cigarette flared with an inhale on the stick.


	2. Chapter 2

~~~**One hour earlier…**~~~

Shikamaru hated it when Temari shook him awake. As usual, just because he was done didn't mean she was. And as usual, it was more than just his lackluster method. "You hardly did anything around the house today," she snapped at him as her arms folded across her chest. "Yet you can't muster up the energy to tend to your wife?" She gave him that challenging smirk. "And you still want to call yourself a man?"

With a begrudging groan, Shikamaru sat up and hunched over. It was too late at night to be bothered like this, and he was too naked to be taken seriously. Did she always have to pull his bottoms all the way off for sex? Not like he took all her clothes off and left it to her to redress herself.

How best to handle his wife, who – when she wanted to or not – could be quite frightening?

He stared at her for a while, and she knew his mind was working. Finally, he stood up, rubbed the back of his neck and said, "I'm going to take a walk."

Temari froze for a moment in her shock before she scowled. He was already dressing by the time she had gotten over her surprise. This was his reply to her frustration? To leave? She wanted to yell at him, but she withheld her anger. He was always like that; dismissive when things beyond his control arose. And so, she hunkered down on the bed he loved so much and turned away with an upturned nose. "Fine," she said just as dismissively. "Try not to wake Shikadai when you come back home."

"Right," Shikamaru mumbled around the unlit cigarette now between his lips.

When he walked to the door, he checked his pocket to make sure he still had a full pack. No wonder Asuma-sensei was a chain smoker… Dealing with women was just too troublesome. He slid his feet into his comfy slippers and was out the door.

Cigarette lit and smoke filling his lungs, Shikamaru relaxed. Too bad this argument couldn't have taken place earlier, when there were more clouds to watch. He could watch the moon, but on a night like this, it was too bright. Besides, if he cloud-watched now and dozed off, he'd be gone all night. And in the morning, Temari would no doubt barrage him with questions about where he had gone all night.

He looked up and calculated. An hour or two… That should be enough time for Temari to work up the will to 'take care' of herself. If an argument between them was about sex, Shikamaru had figured that sex cured it, with or without him. She would touch herself in the manner that she wanted to, climax as she wanted to, and then she'd be relaxed like he wanted her to be.

If only it could be simpler… Shikamaru didn't like that his wife got riled up and he had to rile her more to get them both what they wanted. It might have seemed that they were unhappy at times, but they loved each other. There was just a barrier between their quirks. Sex, while important to her, was more of a hassle to him. When he'd felt restless in the past, after all, it took him no more than five minutes to deal with raging hormones. Temari, on the other hand, took much longer, and on purpose.

Shikamaru's aimless wandering inevitably found him scouring the rooftops, where the moon and clouds would not be obscured by the rising building of Konoha. Taking note of the district he was in, he'd found that he made the unconscious decision to walk in the direction of his best friend. Choji, no doubt, was asleep, and Shikamaru would hate to have a bad run-in with Karui, who was perhaps more temperamental than his own wife.

He gave a small scoff against his cigarette.

How did he and Choji wind up with rowdiest women from foreign countries?

He was staring at the moon for some time before a noise caught his attention. Voices, actually, and the stumble of drunken footsteps. Curious, he looked down to see who it was, and he was not surprised to see Kiba in the state he was always in at night: drunk and draping over some girl. And not just any girl, Shikamaru realized, his eyes first widening, and then suspiciously narrowing.

Karui was just as inebriated as Kiba, it seemed; both needing the other's balance. That might've been all well and good, but for Kiba's notorious reputation. Shikamaru watched them carefully, listened as best as he could, wondering about the faithfulness of his best friend's wife. Kiba's hand made the inevitable attempt, and Karui's honor showed when she bit back. The dog-nin howled into the night as Karui left, and Chocho could be heard shouting back at him from within the house. But after the pain subsided, Kiba took his leave in a leisurely stroll, looking pleased as punch as he headed home.

Shikamaru watched him for a while, replaying the events he had just seen in his head. He took a sharp drag on his cigarette. It seemed that marriage, while elusive for the Inuzuka, did not impede his play.

~~~**Kiba's home**~~~

The Inuzuka liked to stay in a pack, but Kiba felt that it was in his best interests to find a place on his own. Nothing special, nothing grand to house an entire clan; he took up in a well-made shack at the border of the forest, a place where the pups from his sister's clinic could have free range. He never worried about them wandering off, even when he wasn't there; Akamaru, while old, was a diligent watchdog/babysitter, lazily marching the perimeter and turning the straying pups back with a weak huff.

And now, the great big tired pooch was snoozing on the porch in the moonlight, shirking his duties as watchdog. Kiba grinned at him fondly, bending down and patting his head. "Good boy, Akamaru."

Nothing out of the ordinary, Kiba walked past Akamaru and reached for the door. And then the scent hit him, from his nose to his chest! His heart gave a sharp and sudden beat before stilling.

Her scent was always so indistinguishable! It was perhaps what lured him; the complexity of their relationship… if it could ever be called that. But what was she here for? He looked around the yard. No sign of cats; just bundles of dog every which way. His eyes narrowed, and a shrew smirk revealed a fang.

_Looking for a game?_

Well, Kiba was always up for them. Drinking until he passed out turned out to be a bust, as did hitting on Choji's wife. But cats and dogs always had the most mischievous fun.

He listened and heard the slightest scuffle within, and breathing; heavy and erratic. The look of play faded, and Kiba had to be concerned. He grabbed the door handle – never locked – and cracked his home open just enough to peak in; the moon was north of where he stood; the light favored his secrecy. He peered in, and Tamaki's jutting backside, naked underneath her hiked-up kimono, faced him.

She took her stance almost methodically, in the square of moonlight from the window across from the door. Against the moon, the shadows played mystically on and around her. Her cheek on the circular mat, her backside lifted and her thighs opened immodestly. The shadows betrayed Kiba's eyes, censoring the showing of her snatch and the fingers playing there. Just vague details: the glisten of wetness, the thatch of chestnut fur, the dark ring of her other hole…

Yes, she knew he'd catch her like this; she was counting on it. Why else pry open her rear? A Fifth Hokage, she was not, but she still knew how to flaunt her body when she so chose.

"_Hnn!_" She bit her anxiously while Kiba watched in secret. She roiled a little, rubbing her cheek against the floor before exhaling a heavy breath. Her hips rolled in time with her fingers when she pressed her nub. If not for her loud moans and gasps and sighs, she might've heard Kiba as he gave a grunt when his hips involuntarily shoved in her direction. "_Ah! Sasuke…!_"

At once, Kiba's eyebrow twitched, and his look of joy turned to flat annoyance. Damn Uchiha bastard! Always putting Naruto as his No. 1 rival, yet he still gave Kiba grief!

_ Tch…_ He wouldn't have been surprised to learn if she had laid with Sasuke, and any other number of men. It was their game, after all; she just teased him. And why shouldn't he do the same, after all? Truthfully, the idea of her probable promiscuity oftentimes excited him. They were adults, after all!

Regardless, Kiba was already groping himself through his trousers, his member swelling from the view. And as obscured as the view was, his nose described it better than any other sense could: abundant wetness with the promise of sex, soap and shampoo not more than four hours ago, heat and lust!

His cock came out through his zipper, and he rubbed it longingly, speeding to catch up with her. He knew that she shouldn't be lasting much longer. He twitched at the idea, already spilling pre-cum from his tip to slop on the floor at his feet.

A few moans and strokes later, he made the decision to mount her! Splayed on his home's floor, bare ass facing him, droning another man's name while she knew he was around; it was an invitation! If it wasn't, she was sure to have a few cat tricks to keep him from interrupting the show; some cat's paw – needles on the ground that would make him leap ten feet in the air like a scared cat – or a cat's tongue – a seal triggered to scald intruders with boiling water – or some other rudimentary trap referring to some part of a cat's anatomy.

Kiba's hands were at his belt, unfastening it, when the scent came to his nostrils and brought pause to his haste. He'd smelled it earlier, but he was inebriated and thought nothing of it; he was in the village, after all, and familiar scents were everywhere. But out here? In _his_ domain? He growled softly, looking back at Tamaki. The finale was coming, and he'd not had sex since those Grass ninja visited – he brought an old classmate away from the festivities. Maybe it was coincidence, and it was just a passing. But no, the scent was certainly growing stronger in approach.

He growled, and as if his zipper weighed a ton, he pulled it up after making himself decent.

_Bastard…_

Carefully as he could, he shut the door to his home to return Tamaki her privacy. Better to shut her away from the outside than risk someone showing up and taking advantage of Kiba's home's privileged debauchery.

"_Tch!_ He better have a good reason for coming out here," he griped, walking wide-legged to the edge of his porch before lunging to the treetops.

Following his nose had him upon the intruder in seconds. Kiba approached from the east, sneaking up on the target. The smoke was strong, carrying on the wind and giving away his position deliberately. Shikamaru wasn't dressed for a long excursion; he was even wearing slippers. Therefore, Kiba had to assume that he was heading to the hut where Tamaki was probably still pleasuring herself.

Of all times for a late visit… Again, Kiba cursed the Nara.

The darkness of the forest was no place for him. He should've felt more comfortable in an open field, clear view of the clouds in the sky as he lazed his day away. The forest was dark and gloomy with its many shadows.

Kiba's eyes then turned up as he contemplated his analysis of Shikamaru's character… Perhaps the woods, _with_ its many shadows and hiding places, was a better place for him. But that'd be for battle. He'd feel more comfortable with an open sky overhead, right?

In his pondering state, he lost focus and hadn't realized he'd been found out until he saw the rise of smoke beneath him. The branch he perched on now had another occupant, standing upside down underneath him. Shikamaru dragged on his cigarette, anticipating the pain he was going to go through. "I wanted to talk to you," he said after a cloud.

Kiba leapt, and so did Shikamaru, separating like two ninja entering combat. The two faced off, neither ever being comfortable with the other. Kiba sized Shikamaru up, first with his eyes, and then his nose; no sense being too cautious in a world of ninja, backstabbers, and plant-men doppelgangers. "This late?" he asked skeptically. He scoffed and turned his head with a taunting grin. "Aren't you usually in bed by seven?"

Shikamaru closed his eyes and sighed. How troublesome… Kiba was still arrogant and insulting, like his form of communication involved taunting someone into a fight. He answered regardless, saying that Temari knew he was taking off on a walk.

Temari… Kiba thought of the name and put it to the face in his memory. Really, he had so little interaction with her that he had inevitably titled her one of three names: Shikamaru's wife, Kankuro's sister, and Gaara's sister. She seemed a bit too high-maintenance for Shikamaru; but Kiba mentally shrugged and wrote it off as Shikamaru's choice.

Well, if he came out here this late, Kiba might as well hear what he had to say. But first…

Shikamaru was surprised when Kiba extended a hand, gesturing with two fingers. It seemed Kiba had taken to more vices than alcohol. Surprising, but Shikamaru felt loathed to share his cigarette. It was the last in his pack, and he'd limited himself to one a month; he'd stopped smoking after defeating Hidan, but started up again after marriage. Stress was abundant when sharing one's life with another…

But if he was coming to Kiba at such a time, he figured he could spare a few puffs. He reluctantly took his cigarette from his lips and carefully handed it over. Kiba immediately dropped it and stomped it into the dirt, grinding it with his heel for good measure. While he did, he kept his eyes locked with Shikamaru's.

"It stinks," he reasoned, and snorted the residue of tobacco ash from his nostrils.

Shikamaru gave no indication of his annoyance. His last cigarette: wasted. He'd remember the useless sacrifice.

"So what does the head of the Nara clan want to talk with me about?" Kiba asked when the smells were all leaves, earth and water again. He walked to one side carelessly. "Are you here to complain about my pups chasing your deer again? _Heh._ I thought you'd think of some way to prevent it."

"Simple scent tags," Shikamaru countered mirthlessly. He saw the frustration on Kiba's face when he added, "They smelled like steak, and we found the puppies licking the tags in droves; the deer weren't bothered."

Kiba scoffed and muttered something to himself about his pups needing better training.

Shikamaru gave him a moment, and then switched the subject to the matter that brought him out here. "I saw you earlier with Karui."

Kiba made no gesture.

"You realize she is a married woman."

"I didn't do anything with her," Kiba interjected, annoyed, shrugging off the accusations and implications. "Since when do you start watching me, anyway? You'd do better watching that son of yours," he said with a point.

Shikamaru really wished Kiba hadn't stepped on his cigarette… He didn't like discussing his son with a rogue like Kiba; he liked it less that Kiba thought that, in any way, he could offer parenting advice.

"If she wants to go to a bar, it's for the attention that I gave her anyway," Kiba continued in his defense. He didn't go into detail about how he made some attempt to woo Karui in some way. Last thing he needed was the Akimichi clan leader going on a rampage… But he grinned that toothy grin. "I doubt Choji minds."

A moment longer, Shikamaru watched him. The grin passed, and now Kiba's face stayed between annoyed and bored. Silence didn't suit him, and it bothered him when people didn't get as pumped up or riled as him.

"And you do this often to wives?"

Kiba looked taken aback at first, and then scoffed with some red on his face besides his clan marks. He looked off to the side, lightly scratching at his scruffy beard. It didn't look – or sound – good to say that he gave attention to any girl who gave him attention. Maybe he would try to avoid taking a woman's loyalty, but he rarely turned his head when he was given alcohol-scented lips.

"Not really," he muttered like he was a teen again.

_Hmph…_ Shikamaru had analyzed the relationship of Karui and Kiba as they staggered to his home. Maybe Kiba wasn't some scummy louse who preyed on bored/inebriated housewives, but that didn't mean there was no attraction. Kiba _did_ make that attempt at Karui's left breast. For someone like him, sex was exciting and new each time; Shikamaru couldn't understand how diverse each woman could be to intrigue and vex men. He considered briefly how Kiba would have handled the unending nagging, the frequent changes of mood and opinion, the miscommunication when the woman expected the man to understand what a glance meant.

He considered briefly how Kiba would handle Temari…

ccc


End file.
